Page 5 of Ace

He fell asleep with his phone open to her account.

Chapter 2

Gianna pumped water onto her hands, one at a time, scrubbing the dirt off as best she could. Her feet were next. Cold water poured out onto the thick layer of mud while she rubbed it from dark brown to light tan until finally the color of her skin shone through. Sliding down a wet bank into rice fields had to be the most thorough way to cover yourself in mud. The locals never lost their balance, but she couldn’t seem to walk along the thin paths at the edge of the rice patties without bathing in mud.

A group of children ran past, and she smiled. Three of them came for food and water and sometimes to sleep in one of the homes for children she was setting up on their island. Once her feet were mostly clean, she hurried back through the line of homes toward her own and the first orphanage she’d built on this island. She hardly noticed the humidity any longer. Her clothes seemed to be wet all the time, whether from sweat or rain, but she hardly noticed any longer.

She climbed up her ladder and onto her bamboo platform. Her raised home was just like all the others around. Bamboo slats made up her walls, tied together as tightly as they could be. Her flooring was also bamboo, and her roof the same, with some added thatching to keep out the rain. It was mostly successful unless there was side rain with the strong typhoon winds. Then she felt it through her walls.

But nothing was ever cold. Not really. She was accustomed enough to the heat that mid-seventies felt moderately chilly, but the feeling always passed when she reminded herself she would be more hot than she could stand in just a few weeks, or the next day. The weather was perfectly predictable on her Pacific island. Forecast: rain and heat.

She could hear the lunch bell calling the children for food. She smiled. They fed as many as they could. The children who lived there all had two meals a day, and others who were hungry often joined them. Her policy was turn no one away. Unfortunately they had no choice some days. They did not have an endless supply of food or resources.

With that depressing thought, she climbed back down from her home, fresh clothes and a determination powering her attitude.

She laughed as children raced past her again. “Opa! Watch yourselves.”

They all spoke some bits and pieces of English. And she was learning several of their local dialects. Of all the places she’d set up homes for children, this one seemed the most needy and the most charming.

Her director came forward hands out. “Oh, Gianna. We are low on supplies.”

“I know. I’ve put in another order. Have you heard anything?”

“Just that the ships haven’t docked here. Some are saying they can’t?” She shrugged. “But unless we get some supplies soon—or a miracle harvest of rice—we don’t have much to give these children.” Rosamie’s face clouded with worry.

“I got real lucky when I found you, Rosamie, have I told you that?”

“Every day.” She squeezed her back in a quick hug.

“But I don’t know what the problem is. I can’t get my internet to work.” She’d brought a hotspot with her and an emergency satellite phone, but neither seemed like it was getting any bars. “I haven’t really tried the phone yet.”

She hated to call in help. Because calling in help meant a bunch of foreigners would come in and sweep through, offering assistance, and then leave again with the people still floundering to care for themselves.

The orphanages had their own rice patties. She was teaching the children to garden. They had a pump for water. But when a typhoon wiped out their rice and knocked down their homes, they were left with nothing. And typhoons were a regular weather pattern on this island.

“So once again we are left at the mercy of others.” She rubbed her forehead. “Is there no way to create a self-sustaining situation?”

“We will figure it out.” Rosamie’s smile and optimism kept Gianna going most days. At times she wondered if she should just give up and try to arrange regular shipments of supplies to help these dear people. But she knew the shipments would fail. One day they would cease, or someone would stop caring. No. There had to be a way they could sustain themselves.

She made her way out into the courtyard. The children were all gathered, excited about something in the center of their group.

“What is it, little ones?”

They smiled and beckoned her closer. Yesterday they had dug a hole, and today it was filled with water.

But as she stepped closer, she saw the entertainment. They’d caught themselves some fish and a crab, it looked like.

They each took turns trying to grab the fish.

Her heart skipped. Could something so simple help?

The children did fish. But the practice was not foolproof. Sometimes they found no food that way. Sometimes they found much. And it took a lot of fish to feed a home full of children. But what if they dug holes like this one? What if they made use of the typhoons that destroyed so much and gained some food by them?

One more way to bring in food was always better than no ways. She made a mental note to share her idea. In the meantime, Cook would be happy to learn of this new find. “Bako.”

“Yes, Miss Gianna.”

“Run tell Cook what we have.”

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